


to inspire life

by callmetash



Category: Falling Skies, Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, F/M, Lourdes-centric, aka the hades au that spoke to me on a spiritual level
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2054538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmetash/pseuds/callmetash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lourdes is married to the Lord of the Underworld in his throne room."</p>
<p>A small moment between Hal and Lourdes, the Lord of the Dead and his new Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to inspire life

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I wrote the Hades fic that everyone wants to read but no one has written yet? And although it's not as shippy as I would've liked, hopefully it's still reasonably enjoyable? So feel free to share your thoughts!!!

Lourdes is married to the Lord of the Underworld in his throne room, wearing a _peplos_ so black it would never reflect the light in the world above. It makes her skin so pale she seems sickly in the dim, distorted candlelight. Her mother told her often that her appearance reflected her mood; and Lourdes feels sick. She's confident no one knows where she is. Her mother must be  _so_ worried; she must have all of Olympus searching for her—but even though she is unsure if she'll see the world of the living again, the fact she has been allowed the freedom to do whatever she wants in this realm makes her excited for a new beginning, a new life.

Her husband—or at least, he will be in a few moments—stands beside her, his _chiton_ obscured by the large cloak he wears. She tries not to look too much at it; she swears she sees souls woven into the fabric, and it frightens her. Her gaze flickers from one of his visible arms to the crown in front of her. It is to be given to her once the vows are finalised and the bond created, when she becomes Queen. She watches the rubies sparkle as the god beside her confirms his desire for them to be bonded for all eternity.

For all the legends and the fearsome stories she has heard of the Lord of the Dead, she is surprised by how he looks. His hair and eyes are dark, and his complexion much paler than hers, but she can tell by the muscles made visible to her that he is strong, and capable. He does not look like a monster, or anything out of the ordinary, like her mother had made her fear men to be. In fact, he resembles her more so than her brother Arion does.

The supposed monster of the Underworld looks like a man—a handsome one, at that.

He falls silent, his vows made, and reaches for her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Lourdes outstretches her arm and lightly clasps her hand in his.

She feels small when she stands next to him.

In a few moments, it will be done. She will be married to a king. The maiden of the past will be gone, and a queen will remain in her place. The realisation almost makes her head spin. 

After a few calming breaths, her husband drops her hand. The deed is done. He walks forward, towards the crown, and picks it up after a few moments. Lourdes considers kneeling, but he is already so tall above her that she thinks he does not even need to reach up to fit the circlet onto her head.

“And what name have you picked to rule by?” the god says quietly, raising an eyebrow.

Before she had been taken, Lourdes had never been known as anything but Kore, a nickname her mother had given to her as an infant. However, it would be inconceivable to be married and to be Queen and to be known as the Maiden. And while fond of Lourdes, her all but forgotten birth name, it was not fearsome enough for a queen of such a dark dominion. She needed to have a name that was befitting someone of that position. Lourdes—and everything she _was_ —seemed too lively for this place.

“I have chosen Persephone.”

She sees the surprise register on his face. She was not sure _why_ , of all the goddesses and nymphs available to him, he had chosen her, but she begins to suspect that he perhaps wished she could bring life to the realm of death. Her heart aches in pity for him; her father may be the King of the Gods, but she is not capable of such miracles. 

He places the heavy circlet on her head, stepping back to nod at her—his version of a bow, it seems. And just like that, the formalities are finished. Lourdes—the new Queen Persephone—looks down at her sandalled feet. 

What do you say to your new husband? Lourdes wishes she had the right answer. 

“Have you had any other names?” she asks, looking up at him, her head tilting before recognising the weight of the circlet. “Or have you always been known as Lord Hades?”

The question catches him off-guard; she can see it in his face. No one dared to call him by his name—especially not to his face!—but now they're married, she can no longer be afraid of him the way others are. Apart from that, she feels that her question has dug deep into her husband's memories; Lourdes almost doesn't expect an answer from him. She still waits patiently, clasping her hands together and straightening her neck like she thinks queens would do. 

“When I was young,” the god responds with a little frown, “My siblings called me Hal. But it’s been a long time since then.”

The new queen pauses for a moment, remembering that while he looked quite young, Hades— _Hal?_ —had lived much longer than she had. The fact he was sharing this information makes her take a deep breath and find some courage.

“Hal,” she says, testing the word out. “I apologise for my curiosity, but I’m your wife; I suppose I should know _something_  interesting about you.”

He quirks one of his eyebrows. Lourdes thinks he looks rather bemused. “I suppose you're right about that. So are you going to return the favour?”

After a few moments pause, she decides to tell him about her name as well. She doubts that he knows the truth. “My mother made everyone believe that my name was Kore, but my father named me Lourdes.”

This time, both eyebrows rise. “Lourdes.” The name rolls off his tongue smoothly and quietly. He says her name with some sort of reverence that makes her blush. “It’s a pretty name. Would you mind if I called you that?”

“It depends on whether or not you'll let me call you Hal on occasion.”

Lourdes swears she sees a small grin flicker onto her new husband’s face. For a moment she’s overwhelmed by a sense of pride—she, Lourdes, has made the God of the Underworld _smile_.

“Alright then,” he says. “I'll call you Lourdes, and you can call me Hal. But no one else is allowed to know.”

Emboldened, Lourdes holds out her hand, wanting maybe to go on a bit of a walk to see the lands she now rules over, and perhaps to see him smile a little more. “Don’t worry. I’m very good at keeping secrets.” 


End file.
